


i'll be yours, someday

by mingowow



Series: a place in the stars [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but also humor and love and lots of Intense Feelings, emotional suppression, just let them be together!!, light angst?, ok there is quite a bit of angst but i promise happier times!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingowow/pseuds/mingowow
Summary: In all the languages he knows, there really aren't any words to describe all of the things Minghao feels the first time he gets launched into space.





	1. i'm the king of my own land

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO!! this is the much, much overdo sequel to my fic "[soon, my friend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236424)"
> 
> while it's not absolutely required that you read it before this fic, i highly recommend it because i think some of the things about this universe will be confusing otherwise. 
> 
> this will probably be a 3-part sequel! please look out for the following chapters.
> 
> my online research only takes me so far when it comes to science/space, so some willing suspension of disbelief will probably have to be used with reading this if you're at all knowledgable about that sort of thing.
> 
> comments and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> unbeta'd, my apologies for any mistakes.

>>142 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

In all the languages he knows, in all the vocabularies and jargon he has committed to his memory over the years of studying multiple ways of communicating, there really aren't any words to describe what Minghao feels the first time he gets launched into space.

When he was a young boy, it seemed like such a dream. Space was a wondrous thing, an unknown place that his childish mind decided was a realm of infinite possibility. He could rule his own planet, he could zoom around the stars in a spaceship, he could befriend the kindest, coolest aliens. Space was exciting to think about, to fantasize about. His parents planted the seed at a young age and it easily took, consuming all of his imaginative episodes and daydreams.

It was only when he was older that he realized _why_ his parents had done just that.

It's odd to think about, how he was luckily plucked out of all the kids suffering and growing up on a planet that the previous generations had damned. All his childhood dreams came true but for dark, heavy reasons. The responsibility that's been placed on his and his team's (and all the other teams') shoulders is so immense that he doesn't even know if it’s fully sunk in for any of them, even after take-off. How is a twenty-year-old supposed to fathom saving mankind?

Despite that, Minghao finds himself in awe of his surroundings, excitement quietly bubbling in his gut and the surreal reality of it leaving him to momentarily forget the all important point of him being there in the first place.

 

>>59 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

The sky is unbelievably dark, which he knows he's been told before, but it's difficult to comprehend such utter blackness.

It feels like it's going to swallow him whole and he worries for a brief moment that he'll slip into some vertigo spell and need to center himself. The complete darkness sets off all the uncountable number of stars and planets and other twinkly orbs scattered throughout its depth. It looks unreal, like he's peering at a field of flashlights pointed his way or some kind of magical, moving painting.

There's an insatiable part of him that wishes to tumble and float out into the darkness, just let it consume him. Of course, he doesn't want to die, so he doesn't follow through or even consider it an option; but it's interesting to imagine being enveloped in absolute darkness.

"You're going to fog up the glass," a familiar voice says from behind him.

Minghao's vision focuses in on the window in front of him instead of the ever expanding blackness outside it. It's not covered in any condensation and he knows he shouldn't have fallen for that, especially considering who the comment came from.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jun is watching him with an amused expression, his legs outstretched in front of him as he casually floats about in the cabin. Minghao curses at him under his breath and the elder appears to hear by the way his lips stretch into a grin. Minghao thinks he almost might _laugh_.

He's envious of Jun for many reasons but the most prominent thing he wishes he could steal from his teammate and adhere to himself is his ability to toe the line between emotion and lack thereof. Nobody, in all his years of training and preparation, has been able to smile and seemingly enjoy themselves as freely as Jun does. He doesn't know how he manages to keep himself in check because he's never once heard the other's sensor go off in warning or witnessed HQ calling in with a reprimanding for him.

Yet Jun always manages to grin and let out puffs of laughter; he hums happily to himself while manning the tech controls, he imitates different animals and historical pop culture icons as he drifts around the shuttle in microgravity. He’s even managed to pull off the occasional prank on a few of their teammates.

"Don't you have some monitoring to be doing?" Minghao asks blankly, easily pushing himself away from the wall and floating past the other male.

He may not show it outwardly that often, but he does enjoy Jun's company despite always insisting the other should buzz off and keep working. It's just how they've been programmed to behave (or at least that's what he reminds himself).

"Nope, Wonwoo's shift began. I'm about to take my PT."

Minghao glances at one of the many clocks on the wall, the one labeled ‘Seoul, Korea’, and notes that it's almost 2 o'clock in the morning.

Personal Time is perhaps the best and worst part of the day, in Minghao's opinion. He gets that it's supposed to be a good thing, something to look forward to and almost a reward of sorts for all the training hardships they've been put through since they were young boys. But getting to turn off their sensors for thirty minutes a day can sometimes be a difficult thing to manage. It definitely came along with a learning curve because for the first few weeks Minghao was given the privilege; he didn't know what to do with himself.

The first time, he had hurried his way to find Mingyu, who had been peacefully napping in the sleeping quarters. He woke the other up by popping open his sleep pod and running his hand back through the taller’s hair before unclipping him from his harness that kept him in place while he rested. It had meant to be soft and comforting, despite the lack of experience he had in actually doing anything of that sort. He just wanted to touch Mingyu and feel close to him in ways that they typically weren't allow to engage in

But when Mingyu finally awoke and the dreaminess slipped from his eyes, his initial warm smile at Minghao shifted into an expression of momentary fear.

Mingyu’s sensor had started angrily beeping and it was then that Minghao stupidly recalled the reality of their situation.

Only one team member could take PT at a time. He and Mingyu would never get to have a shared thirty measly minutes of Earth time to be open or affectionate with one another.

After that brief brush with being reprimanded, Minghao didn't know what to do with his time. Jun had suggested other _privately_ intimate ways to relieve tension and relax... but embarrassingly enough, Minghao wasn't all too familiar with that kind of thing either. Personal pleasure and gratification was never something they were allowed to experiment with while at the training center and while he did finally give it a whirl out here in the endless depths of space, he somehow felt a little uneasy about it. It was nice and he did feel more... relaxed afterwards. But the stress of having to do it on a time limit was almost not worth it. Evidently he would get used to it, or so Jun had tried to convince him before.

Some of the members spend their time relieving themselves in other ways: crying, watching video messages from home, laughing about God knows what (Minghao always hears Soonyoung cackling during his PT and when he's asked before what causes it, the other simply shakes his head and says he can't share unless he wants his sensor to go off.)

So half the time, Minghao finds himself floating about in silence, not feeling much of anything. Well, that's not entirely true, there's often a hint of sadness as he allows himself to dwell on certain things that he usually doesn't let take over his mind. He thinks of his parents and how he misses them, he wonders about his old friends from the training center and where they are right now, if they are still on Earth or drifting through space in a tin can like he is.

And he thinks about Mingyu. Of course he thinks about Mingyu. He thinks about wanting to hug him and hold him and touch him in gentle, soft ways that make his heart pound and ache. He thinks about how every time Mingyu has to journey out of the ship alone to check on something outside, his stomach twists into awful knots of worry.

Sometimes, just once in a blue moon, he finds himself with damp eyes that he hastily blots away with the palms of his hands, because he wonders what it's like to _kiss_ him. Minghao's never kissed anyone, he's hardly even seen anyone else kiss before, but he has a few vivid memories of his parents laughing and pressing their mouths together, of couples from old classic movies embracing dramatically and locking their lips.

When his mind drifts that far down the rabbit hole, it's easier to take Jun's suggested activity advice to heart. But before he's ever able to even begin anything, the alarm attached to his wrist chirps at him that his PT is over for the day and he's forced to listen to his sensor switch back on, shoving down any and all feelings back into his gut.

He's never asked Mingyu how he spends his PT, mainly because he doesn't want the question to be turned back on him since he doesn't know how he'll be able to handle his reaction to it. He can't exactly openly tell the other that he often daydreams of touching and kissing him, being as intimate with him as humanly possible.

Minghao shudders and snapping back to reality, he realizes that Jun must have gotten bored with him, his form growing smaller as he drifts down the corridor towards the sleeping quarters.

Minghao floats his way through the capsule rooms, the sound of some old hip hop song filling his ears as he passes by Hansol working in the lab. His head is bopping around to the music but Minghao isn't too sure how he feels about it yet.

Hansol spent most of his training days at one of the American centers, where rules were more lax and there was more exposure to... normal things. Hansol's main facility wasn't even segregated by gender so when he casually talked about how so many of the guys he was stationed with ended up being removed for various reasons but none (zero, zilch, not one) of the females had to drop out... needless to say, the rest of the crew was shocked.

Hansol talks the most casually out of all of them, though he's more guarded than Jun is about his feelings and toeing the line between emotive and overly so. Minghao likes being around him because he's interesting and different, he has so much to learn from the younger male and Hansol has no qualms about sharing experiences from his own training times. He's one of the kindest people Minghao has met and while it's so easy to feel like people are being fake when one is living in this kind of environment, he has sensed nothing but genuineness from Hansol.

He's rapping along to the track flawlessly and his expression is relaxed, even though he's tediously dropping liquid samples into test tubes, a feat not easily done with oversized gloves stretched inside a gravity-controlled glass box. For as aloof and relaxed as he seems, Minghao thinks it doesn't quite fit that he is in charge of monitoring everyone's health while they are on their expedition. It's not that he doesn't trust him... it just seems ill-fitting.

Though he imagines it's similar to how Jun privately questioned Mingyu's role as lead engineer to Minghao when their team first assembled. He was quick to assure him that Mingyu was beyond capable and reliable for keeping their shuttle safe and sound, which might not have been sold automatically since Mingyu accidentally unhooked an oxygen tank line during their first simulation as a cohesive group.

But he proved himself, just like Hansol did. Minghao didn't know if he could call the others his friends just yet but it certainly felt like it was on track towards that. When your life rests in the hands of someone, how can someone not bond and build a rapport with them? It just doesn't work.

Leaving Hansol undisturbed, Minghao continues his way through the shuttle, smiling ever so lightly to himself as he passes Soonyoung finishing off a bag of some kind of freeze-dried berries. The red spheres are drifting in the air slowly and he's eating them by nearly unhinging his jaw and inhaling them one by one, like a whale swallowing fish whole. Minghao reaches out a slim hand to snag a berry and pops it in his mouth, getting a lackluster glare in return.

Soonyoung is an enigma. He runs on such extremes and he's the only one of them to have semi-regular bouts of sensor warnings due to his constantly fluctuating moods. One time he started cackling so manically that there were tears streaming down his face and not only did his sensor beep angrily at him, HQ had called in to tell him to collect himself or he'd have to “face the consequences” of not following protocol.

The threat had been enough to scare the rest of the team but Soonyoung shrugged it off with a roll of his eyes once his laughter managed to die down.

"What are they gonna do? Turn the ship around just to kick me off the mission?"

True, none of them knew exactly what the punishment would be if they didn't adhere to the strict emotional guidelines they all knew so well. Soonyoung had a theory that nothing would happen and it was just a power-play their superiors used to keep control over them. For someone who was so passionate about not only his job as pilot but also the mission at hand, he had enough conspiracy theories to convince anyone else otherwise.

Minghao had asked him before, once they got comfortable enough with one another, why he was involved with the program if he was so vocally against their superiors.

"It was either this or die young," he had explained simply with a shrug. Minghao understood the sentiment because it probably would have been the same scenario for him. But he didn't share the same strong, unwavering distaste for their situation as the other did.

Or at least he didn't in the beginning.

Minghao eventually arrives in the control room where he finds Wonwoo and Mingyu, the two of them shoulder to shoulder and talking quietly over something on the screen before them. Wonwoo is tethered loosely into place but Mingyu is not, his giant body gradually drifting backwards every so seconds before he grabs a rail along the wall and pulls himself back into position. The repetition causes a flare of fondness to light up in Minghao's belly, which he quickly swallows down by focusing his attention on another screen that's monitoring their location and flight path to their destination. They have another fifty-nine days Earth time until they arrive.

"Oh Minghao!" He looks up at the call of his name, noting the small smile on Mingyu's face. The taller boy bobs upwards until his head brushes the ceiling of the capsule and he tilts it to the side as he pushes himself back down. Minghao smiles back at him, though he's conscious to keep it as restrained as possible.

"Jun finally started his PT," Wonwoo sighs, knocking his knuckle against the brightly lit screen that details the team members' statuses. Jun's name is greyed out, meaning he is currently not be monitored by the chip implanted in all of their necks. "He said he was going to take it almost an hour ago."

"I guess he got distracted."

"Right. More like he had to work himself up so he didn't waste any time enjoying it," Wonwoo snorts.

Mingyu's face is suddenly tinted pink, the boy turning away to focus in on an unchanging and uninteresting screen depicting their current fuel levels.

Maybe Mingyu is in the same boat as Minghao as far as feeling uneasy about thoroughly... _enjoying_ their PT properly.

There’s also the reality that Minghao’s situation is a bit different from that of his teammates.

While everyone has their duties aboard the ship, Minghao’s job doesn’t really begin until they actually arrive.

Soonyoung has to worry about piloting, Hansol constantly monitors the whole team, Jun and Wonwoo are in charge of all communication and monitoring of their voyage, Mingyu is responsible for the ship’s maintenance and upkeep.

Minghao may not have much to worry about for fifty-nine days but once D-Day arrives, then the rest of the crew gets to take a backseat and he’s the main officer in charge. In a way, it’s horrifying to think about because while he has no problems leading his team, the reality that he could somehow lead them all to their demise is grim.

He’s never voiced the concern before, but something in the back of his mind reminds himself that they all have incredible responsibilities. If Soonyoung incorrectly calculates their route, that could be it. If Hansol doesn’t catch an illness quickly enough, it could spread rapidly to the whole team. If Wonwoo or Jun don’t stay diligent in their monitoring, a number of things could go wrong, from loss of contact with HQ to fatal collisions. If Mingyu doesn’t keep the ship in tip-top shape, it might not make it to their destination.

If Mingyu’s tether somehow severs while he’s out spacewalking…

Minghao takes a deep breath in, causing his two team members to glance over at him.

“You alright?” Mingyu asks, voice lower than normal.

Minghao offers what couldn’t be called a smile but it’s meant as a reassuring expression.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

 

>>45 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

Minghao's favorite place to be in the whole shuttle is the Cupola observation module.

When he's close enough to the dome windows, his field of vision is completely encompassed by the spectacular views of space. If he's tired enough, his mind tricks itself into believing he's floating peacefully on the other side of the glass, through the waves of stars and celestial bodies. He forgets about responsibilities and missions and all the pressure mounting up inside him, just for a short while.

He's in one of his meditative states when he hears a loud _clang_ followed by a muttering of an “ouch”. With closed eyes, he allows himself to smile lightly, joy just simmering in his gut but not bubbling over. He can control it that much.

"Be careful," he tells Mingyu, never opening his eyes to look at the other because he just knows that it's him. Of course he does.

Mingyu isn't quiet; he's generally clumsy and even though it's been months since they've entered orbit, he still seems unsure of what to do with his limbs sometimes as they float around aimlessly, knocking into things and covering him in faint bruises. He talks to himself often as well, little phrases under his breath that aren't intended for anyone else to hear.

But Minghao still picks up on his spoken internal thoughts, sometimes.

It should be disruptive and annoying, given that Minghao often comes here to unwind and shut off his brain. He's snapped at Jun and Soonyoung both when they've interrupted his unofficial reflection time. But it's different with Mingyu.

Maybe it's because they have grown up together, maybe because they've spent every single day together for a decade, maybe because Mingyu is what might be called his best friend in another average setting. Maybe it's because Mingyu is so special to him.

But the clattering of metal on metal, the soft “oof”s that escape his mouth every time he bangs an elbow or a shin, the out-loud counting as he double-checks numbers... Minghao finds it all strangely nice and comforting.

"Can you snap this for me?"

Mingyu's voice is suddenly close, so close that it tickles the hairs on the nape of Minghao's neck, warm and fluttery. His eyes blink open and he's not expecting to have his nose mere centimeters from the other male's face, but Mingyu seems lost on their position because his neck is craned over his shoulder as he unsuccessfully tries to clasp a snap on his indoor worksuit. His body is freely hovering in the air and it's moving closer and closer into Minghao's space, as if there is a magnetic pull drawing him in.

There's the overwhelming desire to slide his arms around Mingyu's waist, swiftly snap in the buckle of his suit and then let the weight of his limbs rest against him, holding him close so he can't drift too far away. Minghao can smell the faint scent of their communal soap on the stretch of skin from below Mingyu's ear down to the exposed collarbone peeking out. It’s a neutral scent but that doesn’t stop him from realizing how his nose is so close; he would have to just barely crane it down to nuzzle against Mingyu’s perfect skin.

But suddenly he recalls their situation, the illusion of touching and feeling and smelling Mingyu so intimately horrifying that he audibly gasps and pushes himself away from the other. His momentum slows quickly and then he's just drifting backwards, eyes wide and hand clasped on the back of his neck, waiting for the obnoxious beeping to start.

"What's wrong?" Mingyu asks him, concern etched across his features, his forgotten buckle limp in one hand. He propels himself forward, encroaching on Minghao's personal space bubble again.

"Don't," he lets out a little to quickly. Mingyu seems confused so Minghao raises his free hand in attempts to indirectly tell the other to stop.

It's awful because his heart is thudding loudly in his chest and his face feels unbearably hot; he's still waiting for the sensor to scold him or for a disembodied voice to call in and tell him off, but neither of those things happen. Mingyu just looks over at him, sadly, maybe even longingly, but with understanding.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," is all he says and Minghao nods curtly because he doesn't know what to say.

He just needs his body to calm down and his mind to stop replaying the visual of glimmering golden skin stretched out along the other’s neck.

Minghao gets his bearings enough to hesitantly come forward, clamping the unbuckled strap of Mingyu's suit and tightening the strap for him, all the while avoiding eye contact. It’s mechanical and out of necessity; he doesn’t allow his mind to wander this time.

Mingyu thanks him quietly and Minghao knows he's staring at him from under his eyelashes, which he simultaneously loves and hates. He loves and hates Mingyu, he loves and hates how he makes him feel this way.

That’s not fair and deep down, he knows it's not true. He doesn't hate Mingyu _at all_ , he hates their predicament, he hates the people who enforce these rules on them and make all of this so painful. He doesn't know why he didn't question it more when he was younger, because how is feeling something that seems so wonderful a negative thing at all?

They were always indirectly taught it was a distraction, a liability. Being unable to control their emotions would lead to mistakes and disasters, it could lead to the loss of life. All of that might be true, if emotions are too intense and volatile, but how is feeling _anything_ a concern? If it's anything to Minghao, it's motivation. Beyond the fear and concern over actually possessing the emotions, it's a reason for him to keep going.

His love for his parents, for his friends from the training center, for Mingyu... that's why he keeps doing what he does. That's why he doesn't scream for his superiors to fuck off, that's why he doesn't throw in the towel and quit to go live a quiet (and probably short) life. Because if what he does, if he is able to ensure any kind of safety or health or happiness for the ones he cares about, then everything else is worth it.

So why can't he indulge in the sensations and sentiments that those people bestow upon him? Why can't he openly hug his teammates, why can't they openly laugh together, why can't he cry when he calls his parents?

Why can't he lace his fingers with Mingyu's, why can't he comfortably smile at him, take in his entire being without worrying about it having some kind of effect on his heart? It would make everything, all of this, so much easier. So much more worthwhile.

Minghao doesn't know how it comes up but it does one day.

 

>>38 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

It’s one of the rare instances where the whole team is together. Soonyoung has the ship on autopilot (which is the case the majority of the time anyway) and while Jun is technically on his shift, he’s joining in on the conversation the rest of the crew is having in the monitoring and communications cabin.

For some reason, conversation shifts odd gears and Hansol starts talking about _being intimate_ with someone back home and a lot of it becomes static noise in Minghao's ears because all he keeps worrying about it is if their superiors are listening in and what they would think. Or do.

Soonyoung seems to pick up on his paranoia because he slaps his shoulder a bit too hard before giving it a squeeze.

"Relax, will you? They conditioned us to always be on guard so they don't have to actually be monitoring us all the time. We do half their job for them,” the pilot says, pointing at the sensor imbedded in the back of his neck.

He doesn't know if Soonyoung is kidding or not because there's a small smile twitching at his lips, but his voice sounds humorless. And the words ring true, it makes sense the more he thinks about it.

So despite the awkward conversation topic, he relaxes some and excessively shoots looks at Mingyu, who looks less perturbed and more curious, like there are a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue.

"So wait, you actually, ya know...?" Jun trails off, his hands gesturing vaguely at something that leaves Minghao a bit confused.

Look, he isn't stupid. They had to learn basic biology and anatomy and all of that while training at their center. But it was a lot of technical things, what they needed to know as opposed to what young people would really care about learning. He had heard things in passing over the years, whispers mostly from older boys that didn't make a whole lot of sense to him at the time, but that he was eventually able to piece together.

"No, no, no. We never had that much freedom. But I mean, I've experienced, like... _stuff_."

It's such a generic statement but it garners a bunch of reactions from the others. Jun lets out a little ‘whoop' sound with a smile, Soonyoung is smirking, Wonwoo is slowly shaking his head, and Mingyu...Mingyu looks like he's contemplating the meaning of life, the way his eyebrows are drawn together and his eyes are laser-focused on Hansol's face.

Somewhere between Soonyoung asking _what_ Hansol experienced and Jun insisting that he tell them _who_ he experienced things with, Minghao silently excuses himself because he feels all to warm and the thought of his sensor going off at a time like this, in front of everyone, is absolutely mortifying.

His body naturally takes him to the Cupola observation module and he floats there in silence for an unknown amount of time, his body completing slow somersaults in the open area as he watches bright streaks flash across the blanket of black that is the rest of the universe. His mind is scattered and his fingers continually press their tips to his thumb, counting in the way he used to when he was much younger. He hasn't needed to practice such a technique in a long time and he realizes maybe he's regressing. Maybe he's slipping, unwinding, finally starting to lose it like all the screaming and crying boys that were carted off in front of him what feels like eons ago.

Wonwoo is the silent but deadly type, so when Minghao spots half his face mid-tumble in the air, his heart leaps up to his throat and he presses his fingers to the back of his neck, against the chip beneath his skin. He doesn't need to alert anyone that he got spooked over something so trivial.

"I'm sorry if that conversation made you uncomfortable," Wonwoo says in his low, gentle voice. Minghao's eyes flutter shut at the sound, his heart rate gradually slowing back down to normal.

"It didn't." It's a small lie but Wonwoo just hums in reply and they both drift in the windowed bubble together, silently.

"You still need to take your PT today," Wonwoo reminds him after a while.

Minghao's eyes flicker open and he's hit again with a wave of realization that he'll waste those thirty minutes longing for something he could never have.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could all laugh together?" he asks Wonwoo without thinking.

It's such a simple, unoffending request that it's ridiculous it's such a pipe-dream for Minghao to have. But Wonwoo seems to understand because something like brief, fleeting sadness flickers across his face and he gives a small nod in agreement.


	2. i'm slowly drifting to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got this chapter finished sooner than i anticipated. please let me know what you think! :)
> 
> unbeta'd~

>>27 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

It comes up randomly, when Minghao is hanging around the control center, shoveling questionable and unidentifiable chunks of protein into his mouth from a foil package.

Jun is poking around at different controls and twisting about knobs. He seems to be paying an awful close attention to the screen that monitors their vitals and wellbeing, the figures that alert everyone (including HQ) whether the chip in the back of their necks will start angrily chirping at them or not.

"What are you up to?" Minghao asks him accusingly, though there isn't any hint of animosity on his face. He's simply bored, curious. They've been out here a long time and the days (time is a construct but it helps seem him sane) drag on. So when he notices the way the corners of Jun's mouth twitch up just that slight bit more, how his head seems to sway back and forth as if he's Hansol with his headphones glued to his ears, Minghao knows something is up.

"What do you mean? I’m just attending to my appointed, necessary duties." He has the _audacity_ to flash a smile at Minghao, the gall to flaunt how easily he can convey happiness and not have to worry about his body betraying him.

"Bullshit," Minghao spits out a bit more intensely than he intends. But it can be annoying; he's frustrated that Jun can toe the line so well while he is stuck wallowing in the emotional pool of repression he's been forced to swim in.

"Soonyoung will be coming in to keep an eye on things soon. Can you try to have a slightly more pleasant attitude for him since he's doing me a solid?" Jun asks it rhetorically, unhooking his belt from the safety tethers and pushing himself away from the controls.

Minghao blinks at him, swallowing the dry, half-chewed morsels in his mouth. "Soonyoung? Why is Soonyoung, our _pilot_ , covering for you?"

"I'm taking my PT."

"Okay? So shouldn’t Wonwoo be manning it? You know, the one who is properly trained to do so?"

Jun rolls his eyes but he looks over at Minghao with a smile anyway. "Watching some blinking screens for thirty minutes isn't that taxing nor complicated. Soonyoung is more than qualified. And if something goes awry, it's not like I could've wandered off anywhere far."

Minghao lets go of his food pouch so he can grab onto Jun's forearm, his grip tight enough to jolt the other and give Minghao his full attention.

"Jun." His voice is quieter now.

He doesn't know how to categorize the look Jun gives him; it's somewhere in the realm of pity and mild concern.

"Listen. I wanted to tell you about it, but..."

"About what? Tell me." Minghao finds himself growing simultaneously excited and upset, needing to press his thumb to each finger to calm himself down. Now is not the time to get worked up. The elder seems to sense how on edge he is and he frowns.

"This is why I didn't know if it was a good idea."

"Jun!"

"Quiet, okay?" Jun chides him, which is so out of character that Minghao is genuinely taken aback.

Jun switches their hands so now he's got a hold of Minghao, dragging him to the monitor that has each of their identification numbers on it. He presses a button on the side and a thin slot opens, popping out six individual microchips. Minghao has never seen them before and he doesn't know what they are but when he sees his identification number (117) engraved onto the side of one.

"Wonwoo and I figured out a way to loop readings."

Minghao tilts his head, seeing the other numbers listed on each one. 61, 717... 407. Mingyu's number. "Loop readings?"

"It's like... we can make them skip, like one of Hansol's CDs. We can transmit the same physiological readings back to HQ over and over again." His voice is considerably softer than it was before, a whisper shared between two people who might even call each other friends, if their situation were a little bit different.

"Why would you need to do that?"

Jun's face relaxes and he's back to his slightly smiling self.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could all laugh together?"

Minghao stares at him, still confused, but the words seem all too familiar. He just can’t remember where he’s heard them from.

Soonyoung infilitrates the capsule and Minghao watches as Jun enters something into their monitoring program. His name on the screen doesn't change at all (like it does when one of them clocks out on their watch), but Soonyoung makes a comment about Jun and Wonwoo enjoying their PT time (he's smirking a little, it's odd).

And when Jun can't help but let out a loud, boisterous laugh, Minghao is stunned.

Sure, Jun has always been able to walk the line when it comes to not setting off his sensor, but with a reaction and a laugh like that, even he isn't strong enough to keep it from going off. Which means only one thing.

Despite the monitor stating that Jun isn't in PT mode right now, he must be.

His chip must be switched off, even if the monitor says otherwise. The realization must be evident on his face because Jun grins at him before pushing himself away and floating back towards the wing where the sleeping quarters are.

Minghao hears him call out for Wonwoo and for one reason or another, Minghao's face heats up.

"You okay there?" Soonyoung asks him, blinking as if the entire exchange wasn't completely ridiculous and unheard of.

Minghao scoffs and is about to storm off, but he needs clarification. He needs to be told, for certain, that what he thinks just happened is actually possible.

"They... they can take it together?"

Soonyoung snatches the previously discarded foil pouch of mystery meat from the air and stuffs a few pieces into his mouth before speaking between chews.

"Yep. Pretty awesome, right?"

 

>>19 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

It's less than three weeks until they are scheduled to arrive at their designated location. It's weird to think about, Minghao muses one night, how they along with a fleet of countless other ships are drifting into all directions of the universe, looking for the same thing.

It becomes a normal thing for the crew to take PT in pairs. Soonyoung and Hansol take it together often, their joint bouts of laughter ringing out through the ship and leaving Minghao feeling an odd mixture of envy and contentment. Jun and Wonwoo take theirs together often too, but their activities are a bit more... intimate and personal. Every time Minghao catches Jun asking Soonyoung to cover for them, his stomach flips and twists and knots itself in a very bizarre way.

"You can do it too, you know. With Mingyu or whoever, if you wanted," Wonwoo mentions to him out of the blue one day.

Though he realizes maybe it isn't entirely out of the blue, considering how he snapped a fastener on his suit clean off from gripping it too hard, right after overhearing Jun and Wonwoo quietly discussing when they'd take their PT together today.

"Do what?" he asks, maybe too quickly and his words too punchy. Wonwoo somehow manages to give him an amused look, without smiling or narrowing his eyes.

"You can take your PT together." Minghao's breath catches in the back of his throat, subconsciously fiddling with the alarm clipped around his wrist. "That way you can talk and stuff without having to worry about anything. It's really nice, just being able to... let go."

Right. Talking, laughing. Of course that's what Wonwoo meant because it's not like he'd know how badly Minghao just wants to _touch_ Mingyu, in the most innocent of ways to means he doesn't even fully understand yet himself.

"Mingyu hasn't brought it up," he weakly argues.

"Have you brought it up to him?"

Minghao lets out a small scoff and Wonwoo somehow _smirks_. Jun's abilities must really be rubbing off on him.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Wonwoo replies, blinking at him.

"Give... give looks like that, without setting it off. You guys can get away with so much more than I can."

"You haven't tried," Wonwoo says with a shrug, punching in a few buttons on one of the controls. Minghao doesn't know what he's suddenly doing but he doesn't really care all that much in the moment. "And, I don't know. I think it's easier to balance the feelings when you can really let it go sometimes, you know? Being happy alone is one thing but being happy with someone else? It's so different. It's a lot better."

Something clicks in Minghao’s head.

“It would be nice if we could all laugh together,” he recalls softly.

Wonwoo gives him a look that reads sad yet touched.

“We’re working on figuring that out. Don’t worry.”

Minghao means to ask what that is supposed to imply but a call from HQ steals Wonwoo’s attention and he’s silently exiled from the control station.

During his designated sleeping hours that day, Minghao gets hardly any rest. It's awful because the sleep pod is constricting and uncomfortable when restless and wide awake.

He feels like he's trapped in there for hours before he hears clanging through the door. His boredom and curiosity get the best of him and he pops the capsule’s door open to peek out.

He should have known from the noise alone that it was Mingyu, coupled with the fact that his staggered sleep schedule starts a few hours after Minghao's does. So from that, he deduces that he's been going insane in his sleep capsule for about three hours.

"Sorry," Mingyu whispers, a slight frown on his face as he looks over at the other. "Did I wake you?"

He's half out of his daily work suit, the zipper undone and arms out from their sleeves, leaving them to float about his waist in the air. He's got a white t-shirt on still though and his hair is slightly mused from either the day's work or his clumsy habits. Either way, he looks so... so nice and Minghao blames it on his lack of sleep when he reaches out and combs his fingers back through the other’s hair.

Mingyu's expression doesn't change that extremely, but his frown softens and his whole faces seems to relax. There's a brief instance where Minghao is worried that something will happen, but the moment just lingers there in the air for a while, the room peaceful and quiet.

"Do you like taking it alone?"

The question Mingyu asks him is vague and if it were anyone else, he wouldn't know what they were referencing. But Minghao knows all too well what he's bringing up.

"Do you want to take it together?" Minghao answers it with another question, his lungs freezing once the words rush out.

Mingyu is suddenly grabbing his hand and pressing their palms together, Minghao's fingers appearing slim and long against the other's. Mingyu is breathing deeply, a relaxing technique that Minghao only recognizes when their fingertips are pressed together one by one.

It’s the same manner Minghao would do alone, touching his thumb to every fingertip, to calm himself. Only now they’re doing it together, fingertip to fingertip.

Minghao wants to hug him but he doesn't trust himself that much, at least not yet.

"Yes," the taller male says finally with a small sigh. "I want... I want to be able to be around you without having to think twice about every little thing."

Nodding quickly, Minghao briefly locks their fingers together and gives Mingyu's hand a squeeze before he feels something bubbling up in his chest and he forces himself to push away, back into his tight, lonely sleep pod. He can’t even bring himself to look back at Mingyu because he feels like he might spontaneously combust.

He straps himself back in and goes to close the hatch before catching Mingyu wishing him a very soft, "sleep well".

 

>>16 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to ask Jun about it. Because Jun does it nearly every day and the other guys have offered to help him out time and time again. But it’s still a bit terrifying. So much so that Minghao is worried he’s going to set off his sensor and then HQ will call in and their whole elaborate scheme will be revealed, he alone having ruined everything.

It must be palpable because while he’s simply hovering around the control room, Jun speaks up to him first.

“Relax, will you? Mingyu already asked Wonwoo to take care of things so you can stop pacing about and breathe.”

Minghao lets out a breath he doesn’t know he had been tightly holding. His palms still feel sweaty and his chest oddly tingly, but it is honestly a load off his mind.

“Just focus on all the _fun_ you’ll get to have in a little bit.”

“Jun,” Minghao groans, leaning his head back against the cushioned wall. Thumb to index, thumb to ring.

Jun shoots him a small grin, letting out a hum.

“I’m just teasing you. I get why you’re all worked up but it’ll all be fine. Great, even. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.” Minghao’s stomach does a little flip. “And it’s the first of many PTs together, if that’s what you guys both want. It’s not a precious limited, one-time thing.”

_It is though_ , Minghao thinks. Even if it does happen again, it’s the first time he’ll get to freely act on his newly discovered and self-accepted feelings without having to be hyper-aware of everything.

“Maybe go freshen up to calm yourself down?”

Jun doesn’t mean it as a jab but Minghao still scoffs at him, for both the implication that he’s unhygienic and also what his warped mind thinks the two of them are going to do together.

Even though Minghao doesn’t have a clue what will happen between them in the moment, Jun can buzz off with his assumptions, as fond as they might be in his mind.

But that said, Minghao does take his advice. He washes up (his excuse being that it will distract him and help calm him down) and changes the clothing under his work suit. Hansol is currently enjoying his unmonitored time alone, watching something privately in his cramped sleep pod. Minghao catches him grinning wide and laughing, his eyes maybe shining with tears.

Mingyu has been off working outside the ship for some time, doing the regular maintenance check on the external coverings of their fuel tanks. It’s only 16 more days in Earth time until they are supposed to land, so everyone is doing their part to prepare for it. Or at least prepare as much as they can, given that the mission they are on is unprecedented.

Personally, Minghao is trying not to dwell on their landing much.

When he drifts back out to the control room, he spots Wonwoo and Jun together, whispering in front of the monitors. Wonwoo’s foot it hooked around Jun’s ankle as they casually float. The physical contact seems so innocent yet it still makes Minghao’s chest constrict a bit.

One good thing about being in space and living in microgravity is the lack of footsteps; it’s easy to sneak up someone if desired. And Minghao doesn’t really mean to, but he does approach them unannounced.

“So we’ll try double the time tomorrow?” Jun asks.

Wonwoo nudges his glasses up his nose. “Yeah, Soonyoung offered to be the guinea pig.”

“Double the time for what?” Minghao interjects, causing both of his team members to jolt a little and push apart.

Jun’s face quickly neutralizes but Wonwoo seems a bit more flustered.

“Nothing.”

Minghao sighs, feeling slightly prickly. It’s probably just his nerves, but that doesn’t stop him from speaking out. “Why do you guys never tell me anything? Do you think I’m gonna rat you out to HQ or something? I wouldn’t do that, ever.”

“We know,” the two say in unison, looking over at him almost apologetically.

“Go enjoy your PT time, Minghao. Mingyu just headed back in, we can start you guys once you meet up,” Jun tells him.

Wonwoo looks down at some controls and nudges a few buttons, but Minghao has a feeling it’s just for the illusion.

As if finally accepting his annoyance (and something that stings like genuine _hurt_ ) over being left out, Jun speaks up again. “I’ll tell you later, okay? I promise.”

Minghao says nothing but pushes himself back down the tunnel, towards the sleeping quarters. His mind is busy and racing, wondering what it is the two of them (and Soonyoung, evidently) could be so hush-hush about.

But all of that is quickly forgotten when he pushes the button to open the door and sees Mingyu, work suit half off in his typical fashion, except this time the arm sleeves are tied securely around his waist.

Mingyu looks up at the sound of the door and a slow grin spreads across his face.

Holding his breath, Minghao presses a button on the contraption around his wrist and waits until he hears the soft beep, alerting him that it’s been powered off for the time being. And by the open expression on his best friend’s face, it seems Mingyu’s monitor has told him the same.

Thirty minutes. Thirty whole minutes to spend together, openly, with nothing to oversee their time together or alert their superiors that they are acting (feeling) too erratically.

Minghao feels frozen but thankfully Mingyu has always been the proactive type. So it’s no surprise that he propels himself over and before Minghao realizes, they are pressed and molded together, Mingyu’s arms tightly wound around him.

As if moving in slow motion, Minghao finally raises his arms and loops them around the other too.

He can feel the heat from Mingyu’s skin radiating through his thin shirt. He’s so warm and solid and alive, his breaths steady but labored, as if he’s just sprinted into his arms. And he smells like something Minghao can’t exactly explain. Slightly sweaty and salty, yet it’s comforting, like a scent he recalls from back home, on Earth. He doesn’t know why.

Time seems to pass nonlinearly and Minghao realizes he forgets all about it until he’s reminded that this is limited. Their time together like this is short, fleeting. So while he doesn’t want to pull back or loosen the death grip he has on Mingyu, he knows he should do something else to fully make the most of this moment.

Mingyu blinks down at him once they aren’t adhered to one another. Their hands are clasped now and Minghao wishes he knew what to say or do but there is just _so much_ that he wants to act out on, he doesn’t know how to properly organize it all in his head.

Thankfully Mingyu’s mechanically inclined brain seems to be a step ahead, more organized.

“What’s the thing you’ve wanted to do most?” he asks, voice soft.

Minghao swallows the lump in his throat. “I don’t know. Just... this. Be with you freely.”

“Then relax. Do what you want. Freely.” Mingyu smiles at him warmly and there is that familiar bubbling deep within Minghao’s chest.

His first instinct is to control it, to pull away and take a deep breath, calm himself down. But he feels Mingyu’s thumb swipe across the the back of his hand and he’s pulled back to the reality of the present moment.

They are together and Minghao can do whatever he wants. He can relish the feeling, he can expand on it. They, together, can do anything they want.

“I just really want to...” Minghao trails off, his voice quiet and raspy.

Mingyu tilts his head curiously, light smile still twitching at the corners of his mouth. It makes Minghao lift a hand and cup his cheek, the skin oh so warm and barely stubbly under his touch. Mingyu’s lips part just slightly as he leans into the touch.

They take their time with gentle, slow movements. Mingyu’s fingertips slide along the length of his throat and Minghao cards his fingers through the other’s soft hair, which is getting a bit too shaggy. Mingyu plays with his ears and cutely giggles when Minghao whines at the touch. So, in retaliation, the Chinese boy tickles at his ribs, causing an eruption of thrashing and laughter between the both of them.

And Minghao thinks of kissing him. He thinks about it incessantly. He curls a lock of the taller’s hair around his finger... should he kiss him? He gently taps on the moles scattered along Mingyu’s cheek and nose... would he kiss him back? He massages the spot between the other’s eyebrows, watching his face relax... would he be able to stop kissing him when their time is up?

But before he can act on any of his thoughts, it’s over. There’s the warning beep that time is almost up and Minghao would let himself cry if he knew that there wasn’t a second to spare.

Slowly, reluctantly, the pair break apart. They untangle their floating legs and heavy-heartedly drop their hands from one another. Space seems to sense what’s happening because without any extra effort from either of them, they gradually float apart, the gap between them seeming all too wide.

“Tomorrow,” Mingyu tells him with a sad smile.

Minghao nods and when there’s a longer, louder beep, he knows it’s over. He pushes down the words and feelings stuck in his throat before he turns to leave. He doesn’t know where to go, but he needs to get away to recenter himself. Maybe the Cupola module.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

 

>>13 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

“You look like shit, Minghao.”

Soonyoung’s comment seems to somehow pierce the ridiculous volume of Hansol’s music because the youngest crew member slides off his headphones and floats into Minghao’s personal space bubble, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Gee, thanks, Soonyoung,” Minghao grunts.

The pilot simply shrugs before returning his attention to the steering counsel and poking at a few buttons.

He knows Soonyoung isn’t wrong. He got a glimpse of himself in the mirror after he woke up (‘woke up’ is a loose term, given how he didn’t sleep much at all during his designated resting time) and it was pretty awful. It was the third day in a row now that he had hardly gotten any rest and it was starting to show. The bags and discoloration under his eyes were as prominent as ever. He felt sluggish, slow. A bit on edge, which was evident in how quickly he bit back at their pilot.

“Are you not sleeping well?” Hansol asks him, gently but still annoyingly pulling at his eyes and shining a small flashlight in them. Minghao blinks obnoxiously.

“Not exactly.”

“You should’ve told me. I can give you something.” The nice thing about Hansol is while he cares, it never comes off as chiding or condescending. Minghao is appreciative enough to offer a nod in acknowledgement, as draining as it feels to do so.

“Thanks.”

Hansol drifts off to presumably go pull something from his medical station, leaving Soonyoung and Minghao to themselves.

It’s quiet in the navigation capsule, enough so that Minghao’s eyelids feel awfully heavy and he starts to nod off to the soft buzzing of the oxygen system and quiet beeping of navigational equipment. That is, until Soonyoung speaks up.

“It’ll all pass soon. We just gotta get through this little bump and then we’ll have some time to relax. All of us.”

Minghao sighs.

What Soonyoung is referring to as “this little bump” is the sudden onslaught of additional tests, projects, and monitoring from HQ that has been suddenly thrown their way. With the new workload and increase in communication with their superiors, shared PT time has been shelved for the time being. They can’t risk it when they are under such intent, watchful eyes lately. And even if they were bold enough to try it (like Soonyoung often vocalized he was), it was nearly impossibly with all the extra work they’ve each been drowning in.

Hansol’s been running so many extra tests on each of the members lately, not by his own volition. That’s probably part of the reason he’s extra concerned about Minghao’s well being, though the older is sure there is genuine care there too. While everyone’s health is a concern, Minghao staying well during their flight is vital. If he falls ill, he may not be able to venture out once they land.

Lately, Soonyoung’s been pretty much glued to the navigational capsule, which he _detests_ because he’s often alone and he’s the type that always wants (needs) to be around others. But he can’t keep the ship on autopilot as often as he used to with HQ playing Big Brother all of a sudden.

Poor Jun and Wonwoo hardly see one another, aside from the handing off of shifts. They’re both good at masking their feelings well but Minghao can tell it’s taking its toll. Jun still toes that line, with light jokes and occasional smirks, but they never fully reach his eyes. Wonwoo seems back to his old self, not toeing the line at all. It makes Minghao’s chest ache a bit.

And then there’s Mingyu. Mingyu, who is so often confined to the engine rooms, who has had to take more missions outside the ship in the past few days than he has total in their entire trip. Minghao can’t imagine how exhausting it must be, physically and mentally and psychologically. Venturing outside the ship is hands down the most dangerous job. Minghao’s gut ties itself into knots every time Mingyu suits up to head out.

But that’s part of the job. It’s what they were trained for, what they are expected to do. For all of mankind. They don’t have the right to be selfish when all that pressure it on them. He knows that, Mingyu knows that. They all do.

“Yeah, it’ll pass,” Minghao agrees, voice weak.

Soonyoung shoots him a look that might be empathy, but Minghao’s mind is too foggy to really decipher it.

Hansol comes back eventually and drugs him up with something that makes his limbs feel like jelly and his tongue unnaturally heavy. The younger helps him back to his sleeping pod and secures him in and when Minghao finally wakes up, it’s almost a full 24 hours later.

 

>>12 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

 

The first thing his mind registers is the sound of Soonyoung screaming from somewhere else in the ship.

Minghao feels like he’s been buried beneath a mountain of rocks as he oh so slowly drifts out of the sleeping quarters and towards the control room, where he can hear the chattering of nearly the entirely crew. Soonyoung is the only voice raised, though.

“I don’t care, I’ll deal with the consequences! Just let me try it! We’re running out of time because by the time they lay off us, if they ever do, it’ll already be D-Day. And then we’ll never get the fucking chance!”

Hansol and Jun are hovering off to the side, practically plastered against the wall. It’s intentional, by the looks of how every time he floats a bit away, Hansol grabs one of the grip bars to pull himself back.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung are in the center and while Wonwoo’s expression isn’t neutral, Soonyoung is the only one visibly upset.

Which is further proven when his sensor starts to chirp and instead of taking the usual measures one would to calm down, he yells out again, eyes squeezed shut and hands clenched into fists.

“Wonwoo, I’m switching it off,” Jun suddenly calls out, propelling himself away from the wall and to the control set up.

Minghao’s mind is still fuzzy and he feels like he should do something, but he doesn’t know what.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his words slightly slurred and sticking in his throat. It seems to go unheard over the chirping of Soonyoung’s monitor and the conversation being had between the two commanders.

“If we switch it off now, HQ might notice and check in on us. How would we explain that?” Wonwoo argues, trying to speak to Jun while grabbing Soonyoung’s shoulder in attempts to settle him down.

“I’ll just turn it to his normal PT.”

“He already took it a few hours ago!”

“Well, what do you suggest I do, then?!”

The trio of raised voices is getting deafening, Minghao having to poke at his ears over and over to get used to it. Everything goes from muffled to loud to muffled to louder.

He watches as Wonwoo attempts to whispers something into Soonyoung’s ear and Jun tries to center himself, eyes fluttering shut and visible breaths being taken. If Jun is worked up to worry about his own sensor going off, then things must be intense, given how he’s always able to remain cool, calm, and collected.

Hansol floats past and offers Minghao a look that might read as nervous, but Minghao can’t really decipher it that well.

“Hansol, you better not being getting a sedative, I swear to god!” Soonyoung exclaims, his face reddening and hair somewhat sweaty, matted to his forehead.

“Jesus, Soonyoung, get a grip!” Wonwoo suddenly yells at him, shaking his entire body by holding onto his shoulders, knuckles white.

Wonwoo’s monitor chirps suddenly and Jun’s movements crank up in speed, pressing and clicking and swiping at the controls.

It seems to have some effect because Soonyoung deflates a little, slouching forward and against his four-eyed team member. Wonwoo’s breathing is heavy and he almost embraces Soonyoung it what someone might consider a hug.

The beeping finally stops but Minghao isn’t sure if it’s because Jun switched them over to the contraband PT or because they have both actually calmed down.

He doesn’t get the chance to ask either because someone grabs his forearm and yanks him away. They’re halfway down the tunnel when he realizes it’s Mingyu, all disheveled hair and tired eyes. He hadn’t even noticed Mingyu come into the room with everything that had been going on.

They don’t stop until they’re at the Cupola and because Minghao still feels so groggy, he allows himself to float forward and lean against the cold glass of the bubble, blinking at the blackness in front of him.

“How are you feeling?” Mingyu asks him.

Minghao turns his cheek to look up at the other and he smiles a little. It must be the drugs still lingering in his system because before, he could never smile at Mingyu like this and keep everything in check. It’s a nice perk of a sedative.

“Fuzzy.”

Mingyu’s eyes twinkle at the answer but he doesn’t say anything in return. Even in his haziness, Minghao can tell the other is exhausted. His posture is worse than normal, as if his legs and arms are too heavy to drag through microgravity. And his eyes are ringed in purple, sunken in and heavy-lidded.

“You should ask Hansol for some too. Get some real rest,” he tells the other, voice soft.

With a shake of his head, Mingyu turns his attention out the window, staying quiet for a long moment.

“Can’t afford to, not now. I’m outside nearly every day. Things are too hectic, there’s too much to do.”

“Is that why Soonyoung…” _snapped?_ he finishes internally, but Mingyu seems to understand what he’s asking.

“Partly, maybe? Jun and Wonwoo have been working on trying to… give us all a break. And it hasn’t happened yet.”

Minghao frowns, trying to understand. He blames it on his current state for not following what the engineer means. “You mean the extra PT time?”

“They wanted us to all have free time, together. Every day, all day,” Mingyu explains, lifting a hand and tapping his fingertips against the impossibly thick glass.

Minghao’s posture straightens and his mind works through the words. PT, all day, every day. With all of them?

“They wanted to override the system entirely?”

“Yeah, that was the plan. But then HQ was suddenly popping in all the time and with all the extra monitoring and tasks, it hasn’t happened. We’ll be landing soon and then…”

“And then, who knows,” Minghao finishes.

It’s a much more neutral statement than what the best and worst case scenarios would be. They’ve all been prepared with the possible realities of what they will face once they take their mission off the ship permanently.

Minghao’s chest tightens, willing himself to not think of the darker side of it.

“Yeah. ‘s a shame,” Mingyu says, nearly a whisper.

It’s awful to think about. They don’t know what will happen because they don’t know what’s out there. They’re literal guinea pigs being sent out blindly. And he knows that, he’s always known that was the plan all along. It’s their job, he agreed to it.

Mingyu’s duties in particular have always worried him. Every time he slips outside the ship, there’s a definite risk of something going wrong. Mingyu is smart and competent, he’s amazing at his job. And Minghao trusts him with it, the whole crew does now. But that doesn’t stop a little voice in the back of Minghao’s head from telling him to be on edge. Anything could happen.

“When you go out there, I get worried,” he admits rather randomly. But Mingyu doesn’t seem put off or surprised by the confession.

“You don’t have to worry, nothing will happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“We agreed that neither of us are allowed to die, remember? Not until we’re both ready for it. And I’m not ready for that. You better not be either.”

The memory triggers something in Minghao, his lungs constricting ever so slightly. His mind so easily conjures up an image of a younger, more well-rested version of Mingyu. All bright eyes and toothy smiles, lanky limbs and stolen private moments in their center’s greenhouse. Space seemed a bit like a dream back then, something hopeful and inspiring.

“But I get it. I’ll worry about you too, when we land and you...”

Right. Mingyu floats around in space, Minghao will be sent off first into the unknown once they land. Nobody knows what they are getting into, in space or on the ground someplace else. Every day is a risk, every day should be treasured and treated as potentially their last.

And now thinking about it, if the second they open the ship’s doors and Minghao steps out onto the foreign soil only to have it end instantly, he’ll have never gotten to laugh all together with his crew members, he’ll never have hugged them all. He’ll never have seen his parents one last time. He’ll never get the chance to check on his friends from their training days.

He’ll never get to hold Mingyu again. Or touch him. Or finally kiss him.

“I love you,” he blurts out, though his voice is low and steady. Thank god for Hansol and his medications.

He can hear the way Mingyu’s breath catches in his throat, how his gaze intensifies on the stars surrounding them. The silence between them is suffocating, or maybe that’s just because Minghao realizes he’s holding his breath because he doesn’t know what to expect now.

“Me too.”

Mingyu says it so calmly and Minghao has to shake his head a little to make sure he actually heard correctly.

He knows he did when Mingyu’s sensor starts to suddenly chirp and the engineer silently excuses himself, leaving Minghao to plaster himself to the glass and lose himself in the twinkling blanket of darkness surrounding him.

It feels like he’s floating more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gyuwuhao) & [cc](https://curiouscat.me/gyuwuhao) \- let's chat!!


	3. there's no end, there is no goodbye

>>9 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

The ship is very quiet these days.

Between the simultaneous sensor flare up of Soonyoung and Wonwoo, which was quickly followed by Mingyu’s sensor being set off (thanks to Minghao’s poorly timed confession), HQ knuckled down on all of them. Hard.

If they thought life aboard the ship was stressful before, a word to sum up things now would be unbearable.

They are monitored live every day, all day. Everything they do is done under a watchful eye, every word they utter is overheard by someone back home. Minghao had all but forgotten about the cameras littered throughout the shuttle but now, from time to time, his ears pick up the clicks as they pan around and zoom in and out.

That’s how quiet it is among the crew these days.

All of them are on edge but they hide it pretty well. Minghao thinks HQ has been too removed previously to pick up on their nuances, things their team on board only notice about one another because of how they’ve been living for months, cramped together in a tin can.

Like Minghao picks up on the way Wonwoo and Jun still have their little moments, twitching fingers that brush when they are at the controls together. They’ll often pat each other’s shoulders when switching shifts. Jun sometimes brings Wonwoo meal pouches when he’s working, which wouldn’t seem anything beyond kind to an outsider, but Minghao knows the intent is something more than simply a nice deed. It’s deeper rooted.

Hansol outwardly appears to be taking things the most in stride. But when Minghao sees him slaving away in his lab all hours of the day, he recalls the glimpses of him he caught before, laughing and smiling widely, tears in his eyes. No matter how composed or distracted Hansol is, Minghao knows not having that outlet anymore is taking its toll. He’s always been in his own little world but the disconnect seems to have extended.

Soonyoung has taken it the hardest, Minghao thinks. The ever chattering, hates-to-be-alone type he is and now he’s stuck in the navigational capsule by himself most of the time. Minghao makes an effort to visit him as often as possible, between his increased amount of work-outs and “pre-landing” reviewing HQ has him doing, which is essentially him reciting how to use his suit and gear… facts that he’s had downpat since he was 17 years old. But he figures it looks better to his superiors if he’s constantly kept busy like the others, even if it is pointless. Idle hands or however the saying goes.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Soonyoung drawls out when Minghao floats his way in one day. “I’m not going to have another _episode_.”

The tone in which he uses makes Minghao’s lips twitch but he covers it with a cough, tethering himself in to the open spot beside the pilot.

“I was told to come chat and keep you company because you were looking a bit sleepy.” He’s teasing, which Soonyoung picks up on by half-glaring at him.

Even though he knows Soonyoung wants to push back, he doesn’t. The pilot simply sighs and re-adjusts himself in the harness he’s strapped into.

Minghao gazes out the front window before them; it reminds him a bit of his view from the Cupola, except not as encompassing. There’s constant beeping and humming from the controls around them and it’s hard to not be distracted by the flickering lights and scrolling screens.

“Are we red?” Soonyoung asks.

Minghao slowly cranes his neck back to glance up at the camera he knows is perched above them.

Despite the constant monitoring, it was discovered that sometimes the cameras had black-out periods. Minghao believes it happens when there are more important events to watch in on.

When the cameras _are_ live, there’s a dim red light that blinks beneath the surface of the lens. And when the blinking stops, the feed isn’t streaming anymore. God bless Jun and his ability to pick up on things like that.

Minghao squints up at the camera, shifting his view slightly to make sure he’s seeing correctly.

“We’re green.”

“Thank god,” Soonyoung huffs, letting his hands drop down to his lap before he looks over at his team member. “Why were they so adamant about watching me alone and then the moment you stroll in here, they cut it off?”

“They’re probably focused on Mingyu. He just headed out for a walk.”

The words come out of Minghao’s mouth casually but realizing he’s said the other’s name leaves something sour on his tongue. He pushes down any worry that starts to bubble up inside him because, duh, Mingyu’s gone out of the ship dozens of times since they’ve launched. He shouldn’t be so on edge about it.

And he can’t afford to be on edge about it, not with everything else going on. Especially because he’s supposed to be preparing himself for his own duties. He doesn’t need a distraction.

“He’ll be fine,” Soonyoung says, as if he’s able to pick up on the mood. Minghao heats up a bit in embarrassment, pressing his thumb to each fingertip, settling his nerves down.

“I know.”

There’s a beat of silence but the pilot doesn’t let it grow awkward, which Minghao appreciates.

“You feeling ready for what’s coming up?”

“Sure. It’s the whole point of all of this, isn’t it? The purpose behind everything we’ve put up with so far.”

It sounds like such a weight when he words it that way, but it’s the truth. And it is heavy. All of this is bigger and more important than whether or not he can laugh without thinking or finally kiss someone.

Everyone back on Earth is counting on them to be successful and relay some good news.

Soonyoung exhales through his nose loudly and Minghao would think it’s a laugh if he didn’t know better. “Right. So no pressure, then.”

“Yeah, no pressure.”

 

>>5 DAYS UNTIL ARRIVAL

With his PT time now solely being used alone, Minghao tries to utilize it the best he can.

It’s tempting to let his mind drift to things very near to him (namely Mingyu, in every sort of positive and negative light, from sensual to heart-wrenching), but those emotions don’t really help his current state much. It’s all a lot to handle.

So instead, he tries to focus his thoughts on other bits and pieces. Some are still sad, like when he lets his mind wander back to his parents. A couple times, he’s recorded messages for them and sent them out: mostly vague accounts of his day, how close they are to their destination, how he’s sick of eating freeze-dried mystery meat chunks.

One night, he’s babbling on about the guys and their jobs. He’s telling in excruciating (and probably boring) detail about what each of them does. He goes on about the communication controls and navigation systems and the physiological experiments and then… and then he mentions space walks. Mingyu’s name slips past his lips and he can feel himself tense up.

He wishes the feed were live, that he could see his mother’s face or at least hear her voice. He can’t bring himself to confess to an empty line, even though in theory, he thinks it should be easier.

“Mom…” he trails off.

He’s tucked inside his sleeping capsule for privacy and if he presses his nose just against the window, he can see Mingyu fast asleep in his own tube. The thick glass is cold against his skin.

The words stick in the back of his throat and his tongue feels so heavy. He can sense the prickling at his eyes but he focuses his gaze on the rim of the miniature camera before him. Minghao knows he can cry, he knows he’s allowed to during these precious thirty minutes a day. It’s okay, his sensor is off.

But he can’t, he doesn’t want to.

_I hope one day I can love like you and dad do. I hope I can have the freedom to openly do that, without being overseen or held back. That would be nice. To just let it all go and not have to hold back anything anymore. I hope I can be selfish like that, just once._

Those are the words he wants to say but his hears the beep and knows his time has run out.

His knuckles lightly brush against the metal door and he manages a small, empty smile for his mother, lightyears away.

“I really hope I can come home. Or I hope we can make a new home, a better one.”

Minghao’s PT is over but he stays in his capsule for a bit longer, fingers hovering over the button that would send his message back to Earth.

There’s a hiss of air and he looks up to see a groggy Mingyu bob out of his bed. He rubs at his eyes roughly and Minghao wishes that their timing was more in sync because how he would’ve loved his last few minutes of emotional freedom to be watching the other, uninhibited and carefree.

Mingyu must sense eyes on him because he glances around the room before spotting Minghao, hiding tucked away and staring much too openly for someone who knows he is being monitored closely.

But the engineer doesn’t seem to care in the moment because he gives Minghao a soft smile, something that Minghao probably reads too much into. He can’t help it though because it’s the most intimate thing the two have shared in far too long.

And as quickly as it happens, it’s over. Mingyu floats to the door and slips out of the sleeping quarters.

Minghao presses his thumb to each fingertip and lets out a long, deep breath.

He eyes the DELETE button for a second before averting his gaze and quickly pressing SEND.

It’s not like he really confessed anything worth deleting, anyway.

 

>>1 DAY UNTIL ARRIVAL

“I’m starting to freak out.”

Minghao has a mouth full of water so all he can do is curiously glance up at Soonyoung when the pilot whispers to him.

“How are _you_ not freaking out? If anyone should be freaking out, it’s you.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel great,” Minghao replies, once he’s able to swallow. His eyes flicker to the camera perched in the corner of the makeshift kitchenette area.

The light is dead, which makes sense. Jun is in the middle of a consultation with HQ. With D-Day literally encroaching on them, their superiors have been taking turns going through checklists and procedures with each member. While it’s definitely tiresome to be faced with an onslaught of questions and interrogated for information to prove one remembered everything that had been ingrained into their brains for years, it’s nice for those who aren’t being grilled.

The cameras are off. There is a collective breath let out amongst everyone else. A temporary break, even if their sensors were still actively monitoring them.

“Really though, are you okay? I’m terrified for you.”

Minghao sighs, squeezing the packet of water a bit too hard. “That’s not helping things, Soonyoung.”

“It’s just… it’s all happening now.”

“It’s been happening. We’re just getting to the next point.”

“But this isn’t anything we can really be prepared for, you know?”

Minghao knows. He definitely knows. But having Soonyoung vocalize these things isn’t really aiding anything.

“Everything will be alright,” a voice chimes in behind them.

Minghao turns, water packet locked between his lips.

Mingyu drifts towards them, opening the compartment with foiled food pouches. He’s almost smiling and Minghao is confused. No, he’s actually appalled. But he can’t let that on, so he simply sucks harder on the piece in his mouth until he drains the packet dry.

“Of course. Right. Everything’s gonna be fine,” Soonyoung agrees, though Minghao can tell by the way he puffs out his cheeks that the words are a bit empty. The Chinese boy lets his eyes flit over to Mingyu again and he’s… annoyed? Slightly irked?

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Mingyu adds on, ripping open the parcel with his teeth. “Minghao is the best at what he does.” A stray dried blueberry floats out and he scoops it up with his palm before popping it in his mouth.

Minghao doesn’t know why he’s peeved. Mingyu’s being positive, he’s complimenting him for god’s sake. He should be touched by the vote of confidence.

And he is, partly.

But then Minghao’s mind flickers back to all the times Mingyu had to venture outside of the ship with nothing to keep him from floating away into the depths of space besides of few measly tethers. And with that, all the waves of emotions Minghao had to keep at bay, to shove down and suppress, to push from his mind, even if all it kept doing was yelling out, ‘ _he needs to be okay, he needs to stay alive_ ’.

The nerves, the fear, the worry, the concern. The awful, nauseating thought of something going awry and… and…

“I believe in you,” Mingyu’s voice bubbles up again. Minghao realizes he’s squeezing the empty packet in his hand, much too hard. He blinks over at his best friend, who somehow has the ability to smile, again.

But it’s not like the one Minghao received last time, in their sleeping quarters. The soft, warm gentle kind. This one seems all too bright for someone who is supposed to be keeping his feelings in check.

Which leads Minghao to only one conclusion: Mingyu really must not be worried. He must not feel much of anything. No fear that something might happen to him, no concern about him venturing out into the literal unknown all by himself.

“Thanks,” Minghao finally says, voice dull.

He thinks Mingyu says something else but his ears feel like they are stuffed full of cotton. The engineer wanders off and Soonyoung is summoned back to the navigational capsule by a disembodied voice (though not without some resistance from the pilot).

Minghao feels a bit numb but he’s glad for it. He doesn’t want to deal with a reprimanding so close to their destination. Better to feel removed from himself than have his sensor going berserk. Even if it means he feels as hollow as he can ever recall being.

He clocks in an extra workout after that, keeping his mind shut off and focusing on his legs pumping as he runs, the stretch of his muscles, the way he lungs begin to burn a bit.

His brain is blank, it’s just darkness and emptiness, the Cupola without a glimmer of a star.

“Minghao.”

It breaks him from whatever trance he’s under, the sweat suddenly noticeably as it runs down his spine. His face feels flushed now too and Hansol is quick to power off the machine he’s been pumping away at mindlessly.

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t push yourself this much, especially not with tomorrow looming,” Hansol tells him. It’s odd to be on the receiving end of his scolding.

But the word tomorrow buzzes in his head. Tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?” He doesn’t know why his voice comes out questioning.

Hansol gives him an odd look, grabbing a towel and wiping at Minghao like he’s a baby fresh out of the bath. He feels like one; he’s not sure he could walk if true gravity were a thing right now.

“You need to be resting. Save your energy. I get if you’re feeling anxious but we need you to be taking care of yourself right now.”

_We need you_. Minghao’s breath hitches in his throat.

“ _There’s nothing to worry about_ ,” the floating head of Mingyu tells him from the depths of his mind. He cracks a toothy, canine-like smile and Minghao suddenly feels nauseous.

It must show because Hansol suddenly has an arm around his back, all but dragging him along to go clean up.

Whether it’s the physical exhaustion or his mental absence, he doesn’t know, but he actually allows Hansol to let him wash up. The medical officer is very careful with his movements, gently brushing back Minghao’s hair as he wipes down his forehead. He even helps him change into a fresh suit afterwards.

Minghao would feel more embarrassed in his normal state.

Hansol is towel drying his hair when he finally speaks again. “Please take care of yourself, okay? I know it’s tough but if something were to happen to you--”

“Then something happens to me,” Minghao finishes. Hansol frowns slightly.

“Stop that. You need to be positive.”

Minghao doesn’t argue with him; he’s too tired. Hansol isn’t stubborn but he doesn’t foresee his team member ever agreeing with him on this topic anyway.

“Sleep for now. You can turn your brain back on in the AM.”

Thankfully that’s easier to do than expected. Minghao doesn’t know how long he’s in his tube before his eyelids grow too heavy, but it’s not very long.

He thinks he hears Mingyu’s muffled voice before he slips off into sleep... but it’s probably just a dream.

 

>>ARRIVAL DAY

There’s something very unceremonious about it all.

Maybe because it’s been built up so much, their entire adolescence being dedicated to this one moment. They never got to live quite normal lives because of it, because it was something bigger than them. The fate of humanity literally resting on their shoulders.

And yet all that happens is a rough landing that leaves a tender mark where Minghao’s belt was yanked across his shoulders.

It takes what feels like eons for the ship to equalize. They’re all still strapped in to their positions: Soonyoung and Mingyu in the navigation capsule, Jun and Wonwoo at the communication controls, and he and Hansol tucked just outside the two main hubs. Minghao can hear the whispers of the two communication officers but their words are muffled by the beeps and whirls of everything around them.

“You alright?” Hansol asks. Minghao looks down and sees the other rolling his ankles, back and forth, one after the other.

Minghao attempts to lift up his leg and the pressure he feels seems like more than he recalls it being like. Gravity is so strange. “Yeah. Feels weird though.”

“You’ll have some time to adjust.”

He nods and tilts his head back, the weight hefty on his neck. There’s a small porthole window above him and he leans over to try and catch a view of outside, but it’s obscured by a cloud of rust-colored dust.

They all stay put in their positions until Jun hollers out that they are in the clear. Minghao hears Soonyoung’s voice echo far away, but it’s just a garbled mess.

“Take it slow, everyone,” Hansol reminds them, kindly.

Minghao heeds his advice by unbuckling himself and keeping most of his weight pressed back against the wall of the ship. Instead of taking a step, he slides his foot first, getting used to the feeling of having something firm beneath his feet.

Hansol seems to get the hang out walking first, though Minghao thinks maybe it’s because he knew better than the rest of them what to expect, physically.

Wonwoo falls down when he tries to take his first tep and Jun laughs a little at him, which causes a ripple of laughter to pass through the group. Wonwoo’s sensor starts to beep then and it’s a somber reminder of what this is actually all about.

“I feel like a baby fawn,” Minghao hears Mingyu’s voice chime out. He looks up and spots the engineer slowly staggering into view, limbs stiff and back awkwardly curled forward.

Minghao allows himself a small smile.

Once everyone gets a handle on their space-legs, Hansol checks them out one by one. They all get used to walking, sitting, extending their arms. A good chunk of time passes before Minghao realizes that he hasn’t even seen what lies outside.

The Cupola feels like it’s a world away, but with determination, he manages to wobble to his favorite place on the ship.

The view isn’t what he’s expecting but, truthfully, he had no idea what to expect.

It’s less other-worldly than he anticipated. It reminds him of photographs he’s seen of deserts, all dry, cracked ground and warm colors. Except there’s pops of cool tones every so often and with a squint of his eyes, he can make out what he thinks are plants through the swirls of dust.

“Whoa.”

Minghao glances over his shoulder and watches Mingyu bumble over to lean against the window himself.

“We’re actually here.”

“Yeah, finally,” Minghao sighs, drumming his fingers on the glass. It’s not as cold as it used to be. “Our new potential home.”

He tries to envision himself on the other side of the window, suited up and ready to go. But it’s hard to do, especially when their visibility isn’t more than 10 meters or so. They don’t know what is out there, not really.

That’s Minghao’s responsibility to discover.

 

>>3 DAYS AFTER ARRIVAL

Minghao still isn’t fully used to walking on solid ground yet.

He has increased the amount of time he spends exercising, doing two shorter sessions a day by himself and a longer one in the middle with Hansol to help him out. He works on stamina and the strength in his lower body and core mostly. He knows he’s only supposed to be out for 2 hours maximum the first time around, but he still would rather be prepared.

The AI bots they’ve sent out haven’t picked up anything hostile or dangerous, alive or otherwise. So far, it’s just been a lot of dust and the occasional excitement over a half-dead tree type plant. It might not sound like a lot but when the robots were first released, the entire crew was gathered around the monitor for hours, watching with bated breath.

There hadn’t been anything extraordinary. But that doesn’t mean a potential threat doesn’t exist.

Minghao’s clearly distracted because when he comes back to reality, Hansol is waving his hand in his face.

“Minghao… you okay?” Hansol asks, lowering the weighted ball they had been using.

“Huh? Yeah, sorry. I’m just…” he trails off, ruffling his own hair that’s damp with sweat.

Hansol’s eyes go a bit big and suddenly he’s speaking loudly, louder than Minghao thinks he’s ever heard him be. He flinches at it initially, out of surprise.

“Oh, your back’s aching a bit? I have something for that, hang on.”

As Hansol shuffles away from the work out equipment, Minghao narrows his eyes at him, genuinely confused. He hadn’t said anything about pain, let alone his back. And why was his team member suddenly talking at such a volume, with such an odd expression?

Hansol comes floating back and he still looks odd, eyes a bit buggy and lips parted. It’s distinctly different because the usual expression on their team doctor’s face is rather aloof. Or at the very least, calm.

“This should help your muscles relax. It’ll… it’ll help you _relax_ ,” Hansol not-so-subtly tells him, showing off some sort of liquid in a small vial. His actual meaning is so forthright, Minghao couldn’t miss it if he tried.

His eyes flicker to the camera situated in the corner closest to them before he licks over his lips and meets Hansol’s gaze.

“I’m supposed to head out soon, I don’t think I should be...” conked out by a dose of sleeping meds, “under any sort of medication with time ticking down.”

“Are you the Chief Medical Officer on board here?” Hansol nearly cuts him off. Minghao blinks at the bluntness, not accustomed to it from Hansol, of all people. “It’s non-drowsy. Trust me.”

Minghao eyes the tiny bottle before glancing at the camera again. He doesn’t fully understand still.

“Just trust me, Minghao. Please.”

So Minghao does, slipping the supposed “non-drowsy” sleep medicine into the pocket of his jumpsuit.

When they finish up their workout, Minghao goes to wash up and change. As he passes through the tunnels, he spots the wall of clocks and takes note. It’s currently 11:00 PM Seoul time; he’s set to disembark the ship at 8:00 AM.

He knows he should try to get as much sleep as possible but he’s feeling about as restless as he did the night before they first launched into the depths of space.

The vial Hansol had given him is burning a hole in his pocket, so as he wanders towards the Cupola, he downs it in one shot, grimacing at the bitter taste.

He doesn’t expect to see Mingyu sitting in front of the giant glass bubble, legs criss-crossed in front of him with knees raised.

He looks younger, smaller, very similar to the boy that Minghao met years ago back in Korea. At the training facility. Back when they were just children.

Mingyu had been chatty and charming, wooing the training center workers and befriending everyone he crossed paths with. Minghao recalls how part of him resented Mingyu a bit, for those very reasons.

He must scoff at his younger self’s jealousy out-loud because Mingyu suddenly looks over his shoulder and spots him.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Minghao greets back. He meanders over to sit beside the other, limbs still feeling heavy from his workout.

“Not quite the same view as before, is it?” Mingyu asks, seemingly having to drag his eyes away from Minghao and back to the landscape before them.

The terrain is still so dusty, almost a golden orange color, swirls of dirt and sand whirling around. There are bits of green splotched randomly but overall, it’s a very abrasive sight. Minghao misses the softness of black and speckled shining stars.

“Yeah, it’s pretty different.”

Silence overtakes the pair but Minghao is alright with it because he feels… comfortable. Which is nice, considering their last real interaction was when Minghao thought his best friend wasn’t concerned about his well-being.

His stomach does a flip at the memory, swallowing it down the best he can and chasing his mind towards other thoughts.

They aren’t touching but every time Mingyu wiggles about in his seat, their arms brush ever so slightly. Minghao can feel his tension melting away and he doesn’t know for sure if it’s the meds or simply Mingyu’s presence.

He watches a whirl of yellow sand dance across the view in front of them; and he tries not to focus on the mental picture itching in his brain of himself being chased by something far more vicious than a flourish of dirt.

“When you head out, remember our promise,” Mingyu finally says.

Minghao licks at the backside of his bottom teeth. He can still taste remnants of the medicine.

“Our promise?”

“Yeah, our promise.” Mingyu’s voice is punchy and strong, like he’s mildly annoyed.

Minghao glances over at him and notices the tightness of his jaw and glassy sheen over his eyes. Mingyu’s fingertips press to his thumb, one by one. He’s trying to calm himself down.

Of course, their promise. To stay alive together, for a really long time.

Minghao is an idiot for ever actually thinking that Mingyu wasn’t worried about him.

“It’s so fucking stupid. How can they send you out there alone? We still don’t know exactly what’s out there and they want to send you out by yourself like a damn guinea pig! You shouldn’t be doing it by yourself, someone should be with you.”

Mingyu’s face has started to color, his cheeks blooming in reds.

“Mingyu--”

“They should let me out there with you. I’m used to venturing outside of the ship, it makes sense!”

Even though his fingers keep ruthlessly pounding against his thumb, Minghao can tell he’s not settling down. If anything, he’s getting more worked up. And now isn’t the time for his sensor to go off.

“Mingyu, stop. You need to calm down,” he says, reaching out a tentative hand and resting it on Mingyu’s forearm.

The engineer exhales loudly through his nose, his whole body tensing. Minghao can feel the muscles in his arm, tight and strung, contracting.

“They should let me go with you!” he cries out, finally tearing his gaze from the window and looking over at Minghao. His eyes suddenly overflow with big, wet tears that slide down his cheeks and Minghao doesn’t know what to do. What can he do?

Mingyu’s sensor start chirping then, of course.

The assholes. They can’t even have one goodbye moment together.

“You can’t come with me because if something were to happen to you, there’d be nobody to take care of the ship. Mingyu, you need to breathe--”

“So what, that makes you disposable?!”

“No! But it’s my job! We knew this was going to happen, we’ve known since before we left.”

Mingyu just shakes his head, tears still falling and sensor still angrily beeping at them.

Something swells up inside Minghao’s chest, intensity dimmed enough that he’s able to keep his head on straight. It’s bubbling inside him but he feels like his mind is clear and he has his emotions in check.

“Oh come on, just this once,” he mutters under his breath.

He slides his hand up Mingyu’s arm before tugging the other towards him and slipping his arm fully around him.

Minghao’s mind briefly flashes to his mother, to confessions almost let loose.

_”That would be nice. To just let it all go and not have to hold back anything anymore. I hope I can be selfish like that, just once.’”_

“Just this once!” Minghao yells out suddenly, glaring up at the camera stationed above them and it’s stupid blinking red light. “You can’t let us have a moment together just one time? After everything we’ve done for you!?”

His voice is loud but he’s able to keep it steady. More than the rush of intense emotions erupting from within him, his head tells them that it isn’t fair or right.

He is still surprised, in retrospect, that his own sensor hasn’t started beeping though. Mingyu must be shocked too because his quiet sobs halt long enough for him to pull his head back and gawk, confusingly, at the other. Minghao clumsily dabs at the other’s cheeks, trying to wipe at the tears.

He realizes then he’s not really sure what to do when it comes to comforting someone. But squeezing Mingyu with his arm seems like a good place to start. His rhythm is choppy and uneven but he can’t help it; it must be the meds.

There’s a long moment of no speaking and then, suddenly, Mingyu’s sensor stops its incessant chirping.

Minghao’s head jerks back to look at the camera and he notices it’s stopped live recording too. The faint red flickering isn’t there anymore.

He stares at it unblinkingly, counting off seconds in his head, waiting for it to flash red. But it never comes; it just stares down at them blankly. Cut off, no transmitting, no recording.

“Did they turn it off?” Mingyu’s voice asks, rougher than it normally is.

“I guess they actually listened to me,” he replies, not meaning to be funny, but it has Mingyu puffing out a small laugh. As unpretty as it is, it’s like music to Minghao’s ears. He wishes he could rewind and listen to it again. And again and again and again.

“I don’t want you to go out there alone.” Mingyu’s breath is warm against his cheek and with their positions, their noses nearly brush when Minghao turns to meet his eyes.

“You said it yourself. I’m the best at what I do. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Of course there are things to worry about,” Mingyu cuts in. His eyebrows are drawn together and while the tears have stopped, his eyes are still damp and red. “Something could still go wrong. You can’t control what happens out there, no matter how good you are.”

Minghao smiles slightly before resting his own cheek against his best friend’s warm, wet one. It doesn’t feel very comfortable but the closeness is so nice. He knows if he wasn’t medicated right now, his heart would no doubt be jackhammering in his chest.

“Right, I can’t control that. But I can control how I react to things. And I’m dead-set on returning. I’m gonna keep our promise no matter what.” Minghao feels Mingyu’s breath hitch. “I’m gonna come back and the mission will finish and then… then this stuff will all be over. No more sensors, no more monitoring, no more following stupid regulations. No more holding back.”

Mingyu’s warmth is suddenly gone from his cheek and Minghao realizes his eyes have fallen shut only then. He cracks them open and he doesn’t know how to describe the look Mingyu is giving him because he’s never seen something quite like it.

It’s expressive and warm, it’s fond and overflowing with what Minghao thinks is love, but that’s a big assumption to be making of someone with whom he hasn’t been able to outright convey his feelings for very much--

“I love you,” Mingyu whispers.

Minghao stares at him for a long moment before cracking a small grin. His insides feel fluttery and it’s so nice. It’s so nice that he knows it can’t just be the vial Hansol slipped him.

“I know.” He reaches up a hand and slides his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. “That’s why I am going to come back, no matter what.”

 

>>391 DAYS AFTER SETTLEMENT

The sand is scalding hot. Minghao can feel the heat seeping through the bottom of his boots and his mind conjures up the image of them melting until his skin is bared and eventually seared. The burning shoots up his legs and wraps up his entire body until it’s sweltering. It’s almost like he’s suffocating.

When Minghao comes to, he’s greeted with a face full of dark, mud-caked fur. He sputters after a moment, when he inhales the hair, and shoves the hot, bulky form off of his head.

“Coop! Get off!”

The shaggy, oversized dog lets out a whine as he scampers to the empty side of the bed. But it doesn’t take long for the animal to settle by sprawling out on the messy covers, which Minghao then notices are also splattered with bits of mud. He grumbles under his breath, poking at the dog with his foot before finally getting out of bed.

It’s mid-morning and he’s thankful for the chance to sleep in. It’s rare, not because it isn’t allowed with his schedule these days, but because of his dreams. They are so common and so vivid, Minghao rarely gets the chance to sleep soundly throughout the night.

He doesn’t bother with showering just yet, simply splashing his face with some water and brushing away the dog fur from his mouth with loads of toothpaste before slipping on his robe. He trapises through the quaint living quarters, heading to the door at the back. But that’s not before he notes filthy pawprints and chunks of soil left scattered throughout the hall and rooms.

A small sigh escapes him, even if he’s smiling ever so slightly.

Minghao knows it’s morning but he’s still stunned by the brightness when he opens the door, shielding his gaze with his hand. Even after all this time, the brilliance of the golden sand in daylight takes some adjusting to.

He can hear running water and clears his throat to speak over it.

“Hey!” he shouts out, blindly (literally). “Your dog tracked dirt throughout the entire house!”

After a few seconds, he tries opening his eyes against the light again and slowly, but surely, the images before him start to fill out. It’s still a lot of oranges and golds, but there are softer colors too. Clusters of green tree branches and a dark blue painted bench. Small patches of fruit and vegetable shrubs bunched together, just in their beginning stages of thriving.

“I like how he’s _my_ dog when he does something bad but he’s _our_ dog every other time,” a voice calls back to him. The most familiar, lovely voice.

Minghao smiles.

“That’s how it works,” he replies in Chinese, just for effect.

And then he hears it. That laugh. It’s oddly high-pitched for its owner but it’s easily Minghao’s favorite thing in his day-to-day life, listening Mingyu laugh. No reservations, no repression, no holding back. Just open, unadulterated happiness.

Mingyu’s hand loosens on the hose in his hand, the water trickling out to a stop. Now that his vision has fully adjusted, Minghao admires the greenery of their yard, their own creation and literal pride and joy. Growing it from nothing, together, seemed all too fitting for them.

“Then would you be so kind to help me clean up _my_ dog’s mess before Jun and Wonwoo arrive for lunch?” Mingyu asks.

Minghao pretends to deliberate, small smile on his lips. “Seungcheol and the others said they’d come too.” There’s a brief pause. “But alright, I suppose I can help. Only because I’m feeling awfully kind this morning.”

“Wow, how generous of you.” There’s that laugh again.

But Minghao’s admiring of it is cut short when he feels a sudden burst of cold water hit his face. Mingyu’s laugh doubles in its sound as Minghao wipes away the droplets before glaring at his partner with weaponized hose in his hand, smiling brighter than any star in any sky.

“Never mind. Have fun cleaning up by yourself.” He steps backwards back into the home and has the door halfway shut before it’s caught by a hand.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry!” There’s still a stream of laughter behind his words but Minghao can’t be mad. How could he be?

So that’s why he allows himself to be wrapped up in Mingyu’s arms and have a plethora of kisses pressed all over his dripping face.

And when Mingyu’s lips find their way to his finally, he kisses him back with intention and purpose and all the feeling he can muster because if there’s anything he’s learned so far in his life, it’s that he should cherish each moment he gets to express his feelings this openly.

“I love you,” he tells the taller for the millionth time, once their kiss breaks.

“I love you too,” Mingyu replies, not missing a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your patience with the last installment!
> 
> i'd love to hear any thoughts, favorite moments, feelings. all kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> hit me up on sns if you'd like too!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gyuwuhao) & [cc](https://curiouscat.me/gyuwuhao)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gyuwuhao) :)


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